


Doughnut Shop

by BloodyAbattoir



Series: Life Goes On [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Post-Nuclear War, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-23 07:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyAbattoir/pseuds/BloodyAbattoir
Summary: The glowing pink mass of electricity was all that was left of one of the doughnut shop's regulars.





	Doughnut Shop

It's 4 AM. The tiny bakery wedged between a pet groomer on one side and a secondhand bookstore on the other side clicks on its lights. The baking crew is already hard at work. The back door is propped open and the tempting smells baked good starts to walked out into the street

 

Soon, the bakery is a busy bee hive, workers dashing in and out taking out trash and setting up for the day ahead. Soon, a worker walks to the front of the store. The bolt is drawn back, and the neon lamp at the front is humming as it warms up. Fresh baked goods. 

 

Soon, the bright teal lamp has drawn the first customer of the day, a mass of crackling pink electricity wrapped in a trench coat and pair of sunglasses. As if this wasn't absurd enough, the arms of the trench coat itself flapped loosely behind the entity, like a small child trying on the full-sized jumper of an adult. 

 

It floats to the counter, hovering at eye level. 

 

Even a mere three months ago, this sight would have been disturbing, and would have resulted in screams flying from the mouth of whatever hapless worker happened to lay eyes upon this being. Now however, the size of a floating thing composed entirely of crackling energy that made your hair stand on end was practically a welcome site. This was what was left of one of the bakeries regulars after the nuclear disaster.

 

As always, the transaction went nearly like clockwork. The girl in apron behind the counter greeted the Form, despite it having no mouth to answer with. The Form made a motion that could have been a nod. Then, a paper box was being folded together in her hands before being filled with an odd assortment of goods. A single raspberry-jam filled donut, a blueberry scone, and two freshly baked croissants. The same order as it had always been, and at this rate, the same order that it would always be.

 

The pink entity produces a few crumpled bills from only Gods know where, and slide them across the counter. She takes them and thanks it. Then, it grabs hold of the box and turns to leave. The bell on the door Jingles behind it as it leaves.

 

 


End file.
